


but i'll take my time if you want to

by beverytender



Series: they call to me with words i never knew [2]
Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1535549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beverytender/pseuds/beverytender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mini doesn't even really try to get her naked.</p>
<p>(The first time.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time - 

Franky can’t breathe.

~

Mini develops this habit, this - when she finds something new that Franky’s comfortable with, or that Franky thinks she could be comfortable with, or. When she finds something, she does it over and over until it is completely comfortable, until it is familiar. Seems like it’d be weird, so much of something, but it’s not. 

~

Franky’s never been held so much in her life.

~

Flirting with Mini is fun. (Not really news.) She can be surprising, the way she reacts to things, which is - surprising. There had been this idea - Franky isn’t sure if it was _her_ idea - that Franky knew all about her. Whoever’s idea that was, originally, they got used to it, the both of them. Now there’s so much she doesn’t know. She supposes - there’s a sense of someone, right, like a core set of traits and hard wiring - no. Like a shape, like - the whole world is a coloring book, and everyone gets a page and there are lines, but they don’t decide the picture, not necessarily - she knows the lines of Mini, but not all the colors in the picture.

(It’s a metaphor she comes up with while she’s stoned, but she hasn’t come up with anything better to replace it.)

~

Mini doesn’t even try to get her naked. Well, not completely. They’re on the _couch._ Franky doesn’t know why she’s so focused on that fact - she knows Mini had this plan, she was going to do the whole fucking nine yards, the dinner date and candles and fucking flower petals, because Mini whispers the whole thing in her ear, while she’s holding Franky still, frustratingly steady, controlled, and moving up against her, and somehow - despite how ridiculously romantic it is - it sounds like one of the filthiest things she’s ever heard. She doesn’t even try to get her naked. She doesn’t even try to get her in the bedroom. She just keeps kissing her, and moving with/against her, slow and steady and for fuck’s sake, and then eventually - Franky hears herself whimper, and she doesn’t know why - they’re so close together, she can’t, she doesn’t know how to deal with that. Sex didn’t seem to involve being so close before. She whimpers, and Mini laughs, lightly, nothing Franky has ever heard before, and tips them backwards on the couch.

~  
One day, Mini comes home and sits down, on the other end of the couch of Franky. Franky’s giddy, and pouts at her, asks her why she’s so far away.

“Come here, then,” Mini smiles, opening her arms immediately, reflexively. What a lovely reflex. Franky shakes her head.

“No, I’m comfortable.”

Mini grins at her, a promise in it, “Darling,” she murmurs, it’s always a murmur when she calls Franky darling, “I will make you comfortable here.”

How is she supposed to say yes, when Mini is saying things like that to convince her? How is she ever supposed to not want more convincing? She shakes her head again, and Mini reaches, folds her fingers around Franky’s hips and tugs, gently, drawing Franky (who is putting up absolutely no resistance, whatsoever) into her lap. She nuzzles Franky’s neck, murmurs, voice low, “Comfortable?”

~

One day, Franky ends up in her lap, same as usual, now, and she’s kissing her, and it’s just a bit awkward, the angles, so Franky turns, re-settles herself straddling Mini’s thighs.

Comfortable, Franky thinks. But Mini never tugs Franky into that position, not for months, not until Franky settles herself there again, not for the first time, not until Franky unbuttons - just unbuttons - her own trousers, not until Franky murmurs tonight and please and Mini (she can’t remember the order) against Mini’s mouth.

Mini stops breathing, when she says that.

~

Franky doesn’t even try to touch Mini. She doesn’t realize until after. She would have, but Mini never pauses for it, never stops touching Franky to leave room for Franky to touch her. She - fuck, what do you call this - She moves like it’s her entire fucking calling in life, settles herself - she slips her head between Franky’s legs like it was pre-determined so far back. If she’s hesitant, in the moment, Franky can’t tell. She knows, after, she must have been, there’s the anxiousness in the back of Mini’s gaze, but it’s never in her voice, never in her fingers, never in - her mouth. Never in the things she does with her mouth. She’s relentless, in the least relentless way possible. Franky tangles her fingers in Mini’s hair, and Mini follows that direction, lighter when Franky tugs, harder when she presses - but she doesn’t stop _licking_ \- licking, and sucking, and teasing, until - until she does. Until Franky feels really truly entirely relaxed. Satisfied. Completely, utterly, satisfied. She drifts off, after, unaware of doing so until she wakes. Mini has gathered her up, it feels like, when she comes back to herself. She’s wrapped up, against Mini’s side, under the cover of a throw blanket. Mini’s stroking her hair, when she comes back, and Franky can somehow feel that she’s smiling before she even moves at all. 

~

Franky looks up at her, startled, “You didn’t -”

Mini shakes her head, grinning, almost immediately, kisses Franky, “I’m - good. I am so good. There are not words for - I’m good. Promise.”

“You can’t-” Franky’s thoughts are all a jumble, not yet settled back into order. “There can’t be that much in that for you.”

“Franky,” Mini kisses her again, in that way that’s so soft but nothing light about it, “darling, there’s so much in that for me, you have no idea.”

“I’ll learn.”

Mini laughs, “Mmhm. But not today. You know what I wanted.” She whispers the last part, and Franky closes her eyes. She does know, Mini told her over and over, repeated it every time she let go of that careful, protective, control, every time Franky kissed her enough that she lost it, a little bit. Franky remembers every single admission of ‘I may never come back up for air,’ or ‘I swear, I’m going to memorize what you taste like.’ She took them as part of the list of ways Mini wanted to give her things. She was wrong - they were declarations of want. She knows it seems so ridiculous - of course they fucking were, but the idea that - this was not a fuck. That wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t Mini trying to be romantic. Honestly, literally, she just wanted to make Franky come over and over and over again. She meant exactly what she said. She remembers the look in Mini’s eyes every time she said that, how dark they got, and the way that Mini formed each word so deliberately. How could all that want have just been for the chance to make Franky feel- 

If all that want was just for the chance to touch Franky…

then, fuck, she wants to touch Mini.

~

Habits are hard to break.

Mini makes it so, so familiar.

(But Franky does learn.)

[](http://statcounter.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a simile, not a metaphor, but I don't think Franky would give a shit.


	2. coda

Franky realizes a lot, after. She’s never thought of herself as the rose tinted glasses type, but apparently a number of orgasms can do that to a person. Little bits of memory that she didn’t really realize she remembered pop up, usually at inopportune moments, like when Mini wraps her fingers around an apple one morning at breakfast and Franky remembers the feel of Mini’s fingers wrapped around the back of her thigh - 

Of course, inopportune can become very, very opportune. 

But it’s not just things like that. She remembers the look on Mini’s face, remembers a split second when she looked so terrified. She remembers making more sounds than she ever thought she would, and without even thinking about it. She remembers the way that Mini licks her lips, after.

She realizes - as brilliant as it was - 

oh, yes, it gets better.

They’re both new, at this particular… well. She can’t speak for herself (although judging by the sounds Mini makes she is holding her own just fine,) but Mini is a fast learner. Oh, and yes, it can be that incredible to spend an entire night making love to someone else.

She realizes (after she gets a bit worried) that Mini is comparing, but not comparing Franky to anyone, she notices that Mini is still - competing. She notices Mini does not actually know when she’s - won, for lack of a better word. She realizes that she needs to be exact, she needs to tell her everything, that Mini had thought this was a test run for months when she had thought she’d made herself clear. She takes care of that.

She notices - she’s good at this. She’s good at taking care of Mini. Maybe she wasn’t always, she doesn’t know, neither she nor Mini are reliable judges of that, but she’s getting there, she feels - she doesn’t know what she feels, exactly, but she knows she doesn’t feel like a handicap. She doesn’t feel like a weight, she doesn’t feel like Mini’s taking care of her and she’s just taking. She realizes she’s good at loving Mini. 

Actually.

Maybe she already knew that one.

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End file.
